All Chapters of The Wife He Couldn't Erase : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Lyara's POVThe world came back in pieces. First, the beep of a monitor. Steady, slow. Then the smell of antiseptic and something faintly metallic. Then pain, dull and deep, low in my abdomen.My eyes snapped open.“Baby…” I croaked, the word tearing at my throat. I tried to sit up, but hands pressed gently against my shoulders.“Lyara, don’t move.” Ethan.He was right there, leaning over me, eyes red-rimmed but alert. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Scrubs gone, back in a dark suit. He’d changed, but he hadn’t left.“Your son’s safe,” he said quickly. “He’s in the NICU. They’re monitoring him. He’s stable.”Relief hit me so hard my knees went weak, even though I was already lying down.“Can I see him?” I whispered.“If you want, I’ll have them bring him,” Ethan said. He kept one hand on my shoulder, keeping me from sitting up. “But you can’t sit up yet. Not with the incision. Lie down, Lyara. I’m getting Han.”I wanted to argue. I wanted to demand to see my son right now, t

Adrian's POV.The parlour felt like a tomb. Heavy. Stale. The air hadn’t moved in an hour, and every breath tasted like old scotch and suppressed rage.Dad sat in his usual armchair, legs crossed, scotch untouched on the table beside him. But he didn’t look composed. Not anymore. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes avoiding mine, jaw tight like he was biting back words he couldn’t afford to say. Shame rolled off him in waves, and it made my skin crawl.Lila stood by the doorway, arms crossed, posture perfect. But I knew her too well. Her fingers were digging into her own sleeve. Her smile was gone. Her face was pale, and her eyes kept flicking to me, then away, like she was already calculating damage control. And Claire. Claire looked like a storm about to break. Her cheeks were flushed, hair falling wild around her face, chest rising and falling too fast. She wasn’t sitting. She couldn’t sit. She looked like if she stayed still for one more second she’d shatter. Hatred burned

Adrian's POV.Three hours. Three hours of sitting in Phillips Monroe’s living room, and I hadn’t touched the water once. The servant had set the glasses down when Lila asked, her voice polite but clipped. Crystal cut, cold water, condensation running down the sides. None of us drank. The air was too thick for it. Harold sat to my left, back straight, fingers tapping his knee. He looked calm. He wasn’t. I knew the way his jaw ticked when he was angry. Lila sat on my right. Perfect posture, hands folded on her lap. She wasn’t calm either. Her eyes kept flicking to the front door, then to me, then away. Calculating. Worried. We were waiting for Phillips. And waiting for Phillips felt like waiting for a verdict. Then we heard it.The low, drawn-out sound of a car horn outside.I was on my feet before I even realized I’d moved.Nerves. Stupid, useless nerves.Lila stood with me, her hands coming to my arms. She pulled me into a hug, quick and firm.“Don’t worry,” she whispere

Adrian’s POV.The engine cut off with a soft cough, but I didn’t move. My hands were still on the steering wheel, knuckles pale, the leather cold against my skin. Outside, the Cross mansion stood there like it always did—too big, too quiet, too full of ghosts. I should’ve turned the car off ten minutes ago. I should’ve gone inside. I should’ve done a hundred things before now. Ashworth Heights.The name hit my skull again, harder this time. Phillips had said it like it was a solution. Like it was simple. “They’re open to a merger.”A merger. Right. With the Ashworths. I let out a breath and it came out shaky, useless. Asking them for help would be like walking into a lion’s den and asking for a steak. I’d be fed, alright. Fed poison, and they’d watch me choke on it with smiles on their faces.Victor Ashworth, the late chairman, had been different. When he was alive, he’d let us breathe. Thrown us contracts here and there, small ones, but enough to keep the Cross Group afloat wh

Ethan’s voice was still in the air behind me, low and steady, trying to pull a stubborn mule out of a ditch. Me. I was the mule.“You’re not thinking about this clearly, Lyara,” he said, leaning forward on the arm of the couch. “The shareholders don’t need a ghost. They need a face. They need to know the Ashworth president is here, alive, and not hiding behind legal documents.”“They need someone to blame,” I said. My voice came out flatter than I wanted. “And I’m convenient. You saw the emails. ‘Why is an outsider controlling Ashworth Height?’ Outsider. Like I was born in the wrong womb on purpose.”“It’s not about blame,” Ethan said. He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the careful part. “It’s about control. If you show up, you take the narrative back. Right now, you’re a rumor. Rumors get ugly.”Ugly.The word hit something raw. I’d spent five years being a rumor. Rumors didn’t get to me anymore. What got to me was the idea of Leo’s name being dragged through it with me.I s